My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Be careful making wishes in the dark.
1. Be Careful Making Wishes

_**My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark **_

**Chapter 1: Be Careful Making Wishes**

**A/N: Well, this is my new RotG story. I've had this idea since spring, but I just never really got around to writing it. I'm not very good at writing Rise of the Guardians, especially Jack and Bunny interaction, and as this story will feature quite a bit, I'm understandably nervous about this project. I'm hoping, of course, that this story will be liked by a few people, and that I won't completely mangle the characters, but unfortunately, I've done that quite a few times. Well, whether I have or I haven't, please review :) I'm open to feedback, whether positive or negative, but flames will be ignored. Reviews are definitely appreciated. **

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><p>It was amazing, really, how two simple yet fateful words sent everybody within earshot in the North Pole into complete panic. The Guardian meeting of the week had just ended, and, seeing as it was fall, Jack had no work to do as of yet, and Bunny had no eggs to paint. North had disappeared into his work room only ten minutes before, and Tooth and Sandy, of course, having the most demanding jobs of all, had had to leave almost immediately.<p>

And before Bunny could disappear into his Warren, as he would have liked to do, Jack uttered the words. "I'm _bored_."

Bunny gave a horrified gasp. The last time Jack had said he was bored, he had visited the Warren, frozen the Lake of Dye, killed over eighty flowers (on accident, he claimed), and annoyed Bunny endlessly for at least five hours, until the heat started getting to him and, thank the moon, he'd had to leave. And the time before that, he had frozen the elves to the ceiling and pelted the yetis with frozen water balloons. The time before that, he had sneaked up on North while he was sleeping and hacked off half his beard. The time before that, he had accidentally knocked a vodka bottle into sugar cookie dough. The time before that…well….

Bunny tried not to think about that one. But one thing was for sure: if a bored Jack Frost was left to his own devices, something horrible was going to happen in the North Pole. Or, even worse, the kid was going to come to his Warren sooner or later. And if he caused trouble in the Pole, North would come to Bunny with increasingly desperate pleas for help until the rabbit relented.

A day with the winter spirit was the very last thing that Bunny wanted, but he knew it was going to happen to him either way. Maybe if he stuck around, there'd be less chaos. But he hesitated before saying anything. What if the kid thought he actually liked hanging around him? He couldn't have him thinking that. The winter spirit still annoyed the heck out of him, even on a good day.

So, to be sure that his intentions were perfectly clear, Bunny said, "Well, I think North has some games in one of the upstairs closets. I'll help you find one. But don't talk too much, Frostbite."

Jack floated into the air on a gust of wind that blew through the window, surprisingly cool for early autumn. He flipped upside down in midair as he spoke, so the hem of his hoodie drooped a bit. "What kind of games?" he inquired.

"I dunno, mate," Bunny shrugged in response, beginning to walk up the nearest flight of stairs. "We'll have to look and see, won't we?"

The wind deposited Jack gently back onto the floor and Bunny shuddered, looking at the winter spirit. The kid seemed perfectly fine, but the rabbit couldn't imagine being that at ease with finding himself suddenly ten feet off the ground. Call him old-fashioned, but he quite liked keeping both paws firmly on the ground.

"Wait, I've got an idea!" Jack announced brightly, his blue eyes sparkling at the thought of the reckless games to come.

"_No_," Bunny said sharply, stomping resolutely up the stairwell. "C'mon, mate, let's just find a board game. I think North wants a quiet day."

Normally, mentioning North brought Jack down to earth faster than anything. Bunny was pretty thoroughly convinced that there were only two things in the world that the kid took seriously, and these were his Guardian duties and pleasing North. Not that he needed to worry about that last one, the rabbit reminded himself. He practically walked on water, as far as North was concerned. The Christmas spirit sang his praises day and night, and even the hacking of the beard incident had been forgotten pretty quickly.

When Bunny heard no response from the winter spirit, he pressed on, "This is around the time that stores start advertising Christmas and stuff – the holiday season is almost here, and North probably needs his yetis to be working as much and as hard as they can."

Again, no response, but this time it made Bunny feel strangely uneasy. He looked behind him, and saw that the kid was not right behind him, as he had assumed him. There was a trail of ice leading up the stairs; somehow, Frostbite had blown past him completely while he'd been talking, and the rabbit could only imagine the kind of chaos he was wreaking right now. He ran up the last few stairs, looking around the landing for the winter spirit, and felt it was almost too good to be true when he saw the kid sitting at the top of the banister, sizing up the track like a runner in a marathon.

Bunny recognized that look on his face: the look of somebody getting ready to do something dangerous and stupid for the sake of fun. He let out a small groan, massaging his temple. He should stop the kid, he knew that. North would take his furry head off at the shoulders if anything happened to his precious winter spirit, and Tooth would owe him countless quarters for all the teeth she would knock out. And, even if he was loathe to admit it to himself, the rabbit really was worried. Who knew what could happen to the winter spirit if he wasn't there to look out for him?

"Frostbite," he began slowly, taking a step closer to the banister. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Hi, 'Roo," Jack greeted cheerfully, swinging his legs over the side of the banister, and leaning precariously out over the gap leading to the first floor, easily two hundred feet below. "This is gonna be fun, huh?"

"Don't do that!" Bunny roughly yanked the boy back into relative safety upon the banister once more, glaring at him. "What do you think you're doing? If you get hurt, North and Tooth will kill me."

"I'll take the blame," Jack promised.

"Frostbite, wait no—

But Jack had already launched himself down, speeding down the banister so fast he was nearly a blur.

E. Aster Bunnymund, the supposedly fearless warrior Pooka, did something he was not very proud of then. He let out a very high shriek as he dashed down several staircases, trying his hardest to reach the first floor before Jack. He didn't really know what he was thinking. He wouldn't be able to catch Jack, not if the kid was going at that speed. He heard a sickening thump a little ways off, spurring him on, but when he finally reached the area, everything was silent and still. To the right, there were Christmas lights and garland and evergreen trees, and to the left was darkness. Straight ahead was a broom closet, the door thrown wide open. A mop had been knocked over, its bucket tilted on its side. With a gasp of pure horror, Bunny plunged into the closet, peeling up cleaning supplies and calling Jack's name. It took him approximately three seconds to realize that Jack, whether he had landed in here or not, was no longer here. Bunny left the broom closet once more, looking from the right to the left. He peeked into the right corridor and breathed a sigh of relief. No crumpled, white-haired, blue-hoodied form. Just several yetis working in studious, obedient silence.

Bunny turned back to the dark corridor, and the back of his neck prickled oddly. His gray fur stood on end as the sweet whispers reached his ears, terrifying yet alluring. He took a deep breath. This was a war that had been fought before Jack had joined up. The kid wouldn't know to avoid this place. He could be walking towards certain death, even now.

So, mustering all his courage, the pooka ventured cautiously down the dark corridor, where the whispers grew ever louder, attacking his ears. It sensed that he'd come back. It sensed that it was tempting him, in the very same way that it was probably tempting Jack. Bunny shut his ears to the alluring voices, concentrating solely on his one goal: finding Jack. The kid could be in danger.

Though he knew it wasn't wise, the rabbit opened his mouth and began calling again. "Frostbite! C'mon, Frostbite, don't go down here!"

There was no response, and he couldn't possibly see the winter spirit through the pressing darkness.

"Frostbite?" he called tentatively, hoping to the moon and back that the kid was alright.

A flash of white in his peripheral vision…

Bunny shot towards the white with what probably would have been classified as unnecessary violence. Tackling the kid to the ground, he stared down into the pale face. His blue eyes were unfocused, and his head was cocked slightly, like he was listening to a song he had never heard before, but he sincerely wanted to hear the rest.

The rabbit cast a slightly scared look at the darkness and hefted the boy up in his arms, almost sprinting back to the lit corridors. When they reached the bottom of the staircase again, Jack seemed to come back to himself, putting a hand to his head. "What's down in that corridor?"

"Nothing," Bunny replied gruffly; he didn't like talking about this battle, if he could help it.

"No, Bunny, I'm serious, what's down there?"

Registering the use of his real name, Bunny looked up in surprise. Jack hadn't called him a demeaning nickname. Whatever he'd heard down in that corridor must have seriously scared him.

"Just some stuff that North put in there to keep outta the way," the rabbit hedged. "Really, it's nothin'. C'mon, mate, let's find one of those games we were talking about." He patted Jack a little roughly on the shoulder as he rose to his feet, starting up the staircase again. He looked back only once, to see the winter spirit hesitating on the bottom stair, looking back at the dark corridor. An unmistakable longing glittered in the blue eyes.

"Jack." Bunny's voice was sharp. "C'mon."


	2. In the Dark

_**My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark **_

**Chapter 2: In the Dark **

**A/N: Hey, so before you can flame for this chapter, I DID state that I mangle the characters of RotG horribly. I did say that. I did. I really did, go back and check chapter one. Really. Don't flame. Feedback is acceptable, but I already know I'm awful at writing RotG, no need to reinforce this. Thanks for the people who can see the good in this, though.**

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><p>So, Bunny was acting weird about a dark corridor.<p>

This was what Jack tried to tone it down to, but there was something off about that section of the North Pole as well. As much as he tried to put the matter out of his mind, tried to shove away the memory of the voice calling to him, that voice, it still unsettled him. His toothbox was still in his hoodie pocket, waiting for the next time he took it out. Tooth, as far as he knew, was the only supernatural being with any kind of power over memory, whether spirit or human. There was absolutely no reason for his dead sister to be calling to him from a dark corridor, and no freaking reason at all why he should be tempted to go down there again.

To all intents and purposes, hearing the voice should have sufficiently scared him enough to put any thoughts about actually going down that corridor to a screeching halt, but rather, it only increased his feeling that if he just walked down there, he would…well, Jack really wasn't sure what he thought was going to happen if he went down there. It had been a lot clearer when he'd actually been there, with the voice calling out to him and the extraordinarily dark shadows, which behaved a little too much like Pitch's for his liking.

All of these suspicious factors should have stopped any reasonable person from ever wanting to visit that corridor again. But Jack Frost was not what one would call a reasonable person, and, as luck would have it, here he was, wandering around the coldest place he could think of at the moment, freezing over the already frigid ground with every step he took. He swung his staff a little as the voice entered his thoughts again, plaguing him, calling him back to the North Pole. He knew it wasn't far. This tiny town already preparing for winter wasn't quite_ that _far from the Arctic Ocean…was it?

"This is stupid," the winter spirit muttered to himself, shaking his head to clear it. "This is stupid. The North Pole is a long way away, and I'm just making up excuses to go back. North is probably really busy, and…and…"

The wind ruffled his hair, causing him to give a little sigh. The pressure around his chest eased slightly at the comforting touch, even if it wasn't physical. It was a pressure that he hadn't really noticed until it was gone, but when it was, he couldn't fathom how he had managed to live with it.

For just a moment, the voice of his sister slipped away, stole out of his mind and he thought of Burgess. He could go back there. He could visit Jamie, start an early snowball fight…

But Burgess was farther than the Pole, a tiny voice whispered in his mind, unbidden and most unlike his own. If he just flew a few miles farther north, he could be there in ten minutes, tops… He glanced slightly to the left, where he imagined that he could hear the voice calling to him again, so familiar that it ached…he slipped a hand into his hoodie pocket and clenched his fist around the cold, hard surface of the toothbox. He had his sister. Technically. Technically, he just had to press the purple-blue diamond on the top of the gold box, and her image would appear. But compared to what he had heard two weeks before, the memories made her feel more like a ghost, made the reality of her death more real to him than it had ever been before. Without really realizing it, Jack rose up into the air and started heading for the North Pole. He vaguely registered that this was an unwise decision, but the pressure around his chest seemed to be gradually decreasing again. Surely, just walking a little ways down the corridor, just to listen to his sister's voice again…surely that wasn't wrong, was it?

Jack's hand went instantly to his pocket again, but his mind was far from the memories sealed inside – that voice in the dark corridor sounded so much like his sister, and so real, and so alive…he had fallen in the lake and become a winter spirit that day. Was it possible that something similar had happened to his sister, and that she'd been waiting for him all this time? The idea, though impossible, made his heart ache.

He landed clumsily in one of the rooms of the North Pole, yetis casting him nasty looks when an icy breeze blew in after him, blowing up their papers and frosting over their paints. Jack offered them all a sheepish grin before remembering what he had come here for – as if he could forget for longer than two seconds – and darted out of the room, keeping his ears strained, instantly on alert for any sounds that might have been his sister's voice.

For a moment, he feared – or maybe hoped – that he wouldn't find it again – despite having wandered the world for three hundred years, the North Pole felt infinitely more complex, and it was easy for him to get lost in there – but he at last located the darkened hallway that he knew, just knew, was it. There was the supply closet he had landed in, the staircase with the banister he had slid down, and there…

_Jack, come here! _

There it was. Her voice. Hers.

Jack had spent so much time after the defeat of Pitch thinking about his sister, and wishing for her presence again, watching all his memories with a kind of indecent enthusiasm, that hearing it again, not emanating from something cold and hard and obviously unfeeling, but from a corridor where the speaker might actually be alive…well…

He let his grip on his staff loosen for a moment – he didn't think he'd be needing it soon, somehow – and proceeded down the darkened corridor. There it was, the voice, the voice leading him on, constant, in his ears, echoing and bouncing off the walls, she was alive, she was alive, she must be… This couldn't be another memory he was hearing, it just couldn't. There was a difference. He didn't know what the difference was, but…

_Jack. _

The corridor ended abruptly, but there was nobody there. The voice echoed still in his ears, but the speaker was nowhere to be found.

"No…no…no, you're here…" Jack stumbled forward, sitting down beside the black cupboard that ended the corridor, running a hand along the surprisingly cold wood. "No…Emma, you should be here…I heard you…I heard you…" Vaguely, he registered that the floor beneath his legs was slowly beginning to freeze over, hard and cold as the toothbox, the only thing his sister really existed in…

_Jack, open the cupboard._

Wait. There it was again, her voice…but why…?

_Jack, I'm trapped in the cupboard. Let me out, won't you? _

"Emma?" Jack sat up abruptly, hardly daring to hope. "Emma?"

_That's right, Jack. But I need your help in getting out of this cupboard._

"I'll…I'll get you out…" Even paler than he normally was, and shaking slightly due to the extreme emotional overload, Jack reached up for the knob on the cupboard and slowly pried it open. It did not come away easily – somebody appeared to have glued it shut with a not-very-strong glue, but nonetheless, it was still difficult to open.

The rest was a blur of blackness.

Something flew out at him from the cupboard, something with dark and leathery wings that was most definitely not his sister. He grabbed his staff and threw an ice blast in a random direction, thinking of bats – he _hated_ bats – but it merely ricocheted off the wall opposite and bounced back towards him. His staff slipped out of his grip, or maybe it was pulled by an unseen force, and the black wings swooped downward for another go at him.

"What…are you?" The winter spirit didn't really expect an answer; he was more concerned with staying alive.

But, to his surprise, the leathery wings manifested themselves into a very old woman with an odd smile twisting up her lips. "Hello." She smoothed her ragged white dress and spoke in an old, cracked voice. She acted as if these kinds of things happened every day.

"You're not my sister," Jack stated, then instantly wished he could take it back – for some reason, he didn't want this woman knowing he had a sister.

The woman smiled rather coldly. "Well spotted. Jack Frost, isn't it?"

"Uh…" He didn't want to tell her his name, either, but she seemed to have already guessed it.

"Thank you for your help, you clever boy," she chirped, her voice sliding from that an old woman's to a young girl's – she sounded like Emma all over again. "You did extraordinarily well, for…well, someone like you, at least." She scanned his body disapprovingly. "Do you happen to know where the exit is?"

"Um…uh…" In the pitch darkness, Jack started feeling around for his staff while trying to keep his eyes on the woman – she seemed to penetrate the darkness with a strange, unearthly glow, yet at the same time, her light did nothing to the darkness.

"Oh, there's no need to search for your staff, you clever boy," the woman said easily. The weapon materialized suddenly in her old hands, and Jack instantly jumped to his feet, feeling very naked. She smiled. "Just show me the exit, if you please."

"I…I…who are you, and what do you want?"

The woman sighed in a long-suffering way. "The exit, dear boy, the exit! Are you deaf, or just stupid? Come now, where is it? My memory's a little scrambled from all those years in the cupboard, you see."

"The cupboard? Why were you in the cupboard?"

"I don't expect you to understand," she replied dismissively. "Now, the exit, if you please? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"I…I…no." Jack tried to search for an advantage he had. "I'm not helping you until you explain some things to me."

"Oh, kids these days," she rolled her eyes. "You're pathetic. Very well, then. I shall find the exit myself."

It was hard without a staff, but Jack tried to build up an ice blast with his hands, concentrating solely on the feel of winter in his fingers…c'mon, he had it in him, he knew he did…

He shot the blast at her, a little weaker than it would have been with his staff, but still an impressive shot. She snorted in derision and ducked the blast, still keeping a tight grip on his staff as she shot out of the corridor and up the nearest staircase.

Jack instinctively gave chase, cursing himself for not heeding any of Bunny's warnings – for the first time in his immortal life, he just wished he'd listened to that old rabbit.

The woman saw him pursuing, and gave another little laugh, conjuring a ball of flame with one hand.

A fire spirit? Oh, now Jack was really wishing he'd listened to Bunny…

"I'm offended." An amused smile played at the woman's lips as she opened a set of double doors and approached a wide window taking up most of the wall space. "You underestimate my power so much."

"What are you talking about?" Jack wished his staff was in his hands.

"A fire spirit? Really?" She snapped her fingers and vanished in a cloud of green dust, the staff clattering to the floor where she had been standing just before. Despite the fact that she was gone, her voice carried to Jack's ears still. "I'm not a fire spirit. I am a witch."


	3. Can't Be Sure

_**My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark **_

**Chapter 3: Can't Be Sure**

**A/N: Alright, guys.**

**I know I've been harping on this fic quite a bit, and trying to excuse my horribly lame RotG writing, which, according to you guys, isn't quite so horribly lame after all. Allow me to explain why I automatically assume my writing for this fandom is unforgivably awful. Let me tell you a story called 'Shattered'.**

**You see, just last year, in the summer of 2013, I wrote this Rise of the Guardians fanfiction called Shattered. It started out okay, I guess – I didn't update that much, and I guess I just kind of let it fall by the wayside for long periods of time in the beginning, but that summer, I was updating it every day. It finally got up to 121 chapters, and 80,000 words. I kind of lost my liking for it after the 120th chapter, so I pushed the story by the wayside once again while I turned my attention to my HTTYD fics. The longer I stayed away from Shattered, however, the more I realized I should probably get to working on it again, and that my readers were either abandoning the fic or wondering what had happened to me. Now, I intended to get back into writing it, but before I did, I decided I would do a bit of rereading on it.**

**Holy cow, guys. It is easily one of the worst stories I've ever written. Seriously, it's crazy. I feel like apologizing to every single person who read that story. That's how bad it was. And I am not kidding. Go read it if you don't believe me.**

**But yeah. That's why I hate my stuff, that's why I try not to write RotG most of the time. This story is a learning process for me, learning how to write RotG and keep everything IC, so please be patient with me. **

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><p>"<em>I am a witch." <em>

Jack repeated the words in his mind as he paced the corridor, occasionally glancing out the window to see the rapidly setting sun, as if hoping the old woman would suddenly reappear. Why hadn't he just listened to Bunny and forgotten about that corridor entirely?

The yetis seemed to notice something amiss with the winter spirit, for a few of them asked him questions in their garbled language, and although Jack couldn't understand them, he caught a hint of concern in their tones. He glanced out the window one last time and tightened his grip around his staff. There was nothing else for it. He'd have to go after her.

He didn't know where she'd gone – she had vanished into thin air, and he was guessing that she hadn't traveled to anywhere particularly close by, so he was guessing he had a long night ahead of him. But he still had to find her.

As far as Jack was concerned, this was his fault. His mistake and he had to fix it. For a moment, he considered asking one of the other Guardians for help – North, maybe, or Tooth – but then he instantly dismissed the idea. Bunny had warned him not to go down that corridor, and he hadn't listened. He wasn't about to enlighten the others about what he'd done. He pushed open the window, leaving a touch of frost on the glass, and flew out into the winter wonderland.

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><p>Jack had been searching for a week, on and off, as often as he could, and he still couldn't find her. The winter spirit had the distinct feeling that she knew exactly where he was, and was somehow keeping herself informed of his movements – but if the witch didn't want to be found, he felt that she wouldn't be found, no matter how hard he looked for her.<p>

When the aurora borealis lit up the sky, he'd been forced to call off his search and, for the first time since he'd let the witch out of the cupboard, he'd have to face the Guardians. Understandably nervous, he flew to the North Pole as fast as he could, hoping to himself that none of the others had heard the news about the witch – or maybe he should hope that they had, so he wouldn't have to search fruitlessly by himself anymore.

He paused, remembering to pry open the window before shooting straight into the Globe Room, taking a seat on the red and gold sofa. As usual, all the other Guardians had already shown up – they seemed to have a thing for being early, or maybe Jack had a thing for being late. He rested his staff against the cushions, nodding at North slightly when the elder Guardian did so to him. North seemed unusually grim today, the winter spirit thought, and his stomach turned to ice as he imagined how the meeting would go.

Would they have heard about the witch already? They would be angry with Jack, for sure. Bunny would probably use this as more proof that the winter spirit wasn't fit to be a Guardian. Did the Guardians have a probation program, or a suspension? Freeing the witch from the cupboard wouldn't get him suspended from the Guardians, would it?

Would he get kicked out? Would he have to say goodbye to this? Jack gazed around the room, trying to force himself to breathe normally. There was no guarantee that North, or any of the Guardians, knew about the witch yet. It had only been a week. He still had time to locate her and force her back into the cupboard. Even if she could shoot gigantic balls of flame, and even if she could sound just like his dead sister.

"My fellow Guardians," North began gravely, clasping his hands behind his back and beginning to pace the room, "we are losing believers."

"What?" Tooth looked up from instructing a mini fairy on where to go, her hand hovering over her mouth in shock.

"See for yourselves," North waved a heavily tattooed arm at the Globe, and instantly the other three rushed over to see what the trouble was. Jack stayed on the sofa, because he could see the problem perfectly well from where he sat – even though, just a week before, it had been full of twinkling lights, all winking at him reassuringly, reminding him he still had believers somewhere, the numbers had dwindled greatly. He noted with relief that Jamie's was still bright as ever, and then instantly felt selfish for thinking it.

"Losing believers?" Tooth sounded shocked and scared. "But North – how could this happen? I mean, we just defeated Pitch, what? Last Easter? He can't have come back again, not already, no, I mean, we sent him down there, and—

"Calm down, Sheila," Bunny raised a paw to keep his companion from hyperventilating. "I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this."

Jack began picking at a thread in the velveteen upholstery to avoid looking at the others. He was sure Bunny would have guessed by now, but the rabbit seemed truly bewildered.

Sandy had several question marks hovering above his head, and then instantly manifested a ball of sand in one hand, and a bunch of golden shadows in the other. When he put them together, the shadows easily devoured the sand, and he shrugged helplessly.

Jack sometimes found it hard to understand Sandy, but this time he needed no translation; what the little man had said was clear. _Strange shadows have been preventing me from sending some kids sweet dreams. _

"Now that I think about it," Tooth bit her lip, "a couple of my girls did come back to me three days ago looking angry, and their poor feathers were all ruffled the wrong way…they might have had a run-in with the shadows, too. Do you think it really is Pitch again, North?"

"Can't be," Bunny murmured. "I think he's gone for good this time – or at least, he'll be gone for a little while."

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, guilt sitting in his stomach like a stone. He really, really didn't want to tell the Guardians about the witch – they'd probably kick him out, or decide he could never be trusted again – but it was clear that he had to.

If she was endangering the children, then the Guardians needed to know what they were dealing with. The winter spirit took a breath and prepared to speak. He exhaled again, almost in relief, when he heard North start speaking, taking over for him. Maybe they didn't need to be told. After all, just because the witch was steering clear of him now didn't mean she would forever. He would find her today, he promised himself.

He glanced at the Globe again, keeping track of those flickering lights. Jack had to find the witch, but he also had to visit Jamie again soon. Any more days of waiting for the first snowfall of the year, and Jack was afraid his first believer would start getting worried about him. A week was the longest time they'd gone without seeing each other.

Halfway through the meeting, while Jack mostly shifted guiltily and uncomfortably in his seat and trying to find reasons to avoid everybody's eye, Bunny fell silent as well. It was a little eerie, to be honest, seeing as Jack had never heard the Pooka hesitate in giving his opinion on anything. When the meeting ended, however, the winter spirit suddenly understood: Bunny was making a beeline for him, instead of going down into his Warren, and Jack knew that the rabbit had figured it out. There was simply no hiding from it anymore – he would have to tell the truth now, at least.

But just as Bunny got near enough to speak with him, North called the rabbit's name, making the Easter spirit look around suddenly. Bunny looked quickly between North and Jack, leaned closer to the winter spirit and whispered, "Wait for me, I want to talk to you," before going off to settle whatever was on North's mind.

Of course, Jack, being Jack, and being pretty much terrified of whatever Bunny was going to say to him, he didn't wait. He unlatched the window and flew off into the blue sky, deciding to check in with his believers in Burgess before resuming the hunt for the witch. Just to check in, make sure her magic wasn't affecting them and that Jamie hadn't totally forgotten about him or anything like that. Hey, a lot could happen in a week, he reasoned with himself as he landed on the roof of his first believer's house, a surprisingly short time later.

He waved his staff, almost lazily, and snow began to fall immediately from the point of the wooden structure. He used a hand to frost over the window, letting the crackling noise make his presence known. Jamie looked up from where he sat, a book open on his lap, and rushed over to the window, opening it for his friend.

Jack tried to smile for his believer, leaving the window open behind him, even when snow piled up on the sill and flecked the carpet. Jamie found this both odd and upsetting, as the only times that Jack left the window open after entering were the times that he didn't plan on staying long. But he hadn't visited for a week! What was so important that the Guardian of Fun himself couldn't take a break to play?

He hugged the young Guardian around the waist and Jack smiled, easing himself out of the hug instead of bending down to Jamie's height. He ruffled the kid's hair fondly as he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could even get a word in, ice cold fingers closed around his upper arm, wrenching his staff out of his grip. Jamie's brown eyes widened and Jack turned, expecting to see Bunny yelling at him, or something, but it wasn't the rabbit. It wasn't a Guardian at all.

I guess I did keep my promise to myself, Jack thought. But then, he hadn't really found the witch – she had found him.


	4. When They'll Hit Their Mark

**_My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark _**

**A/N: Aughhh why do I always love plots like these xD well I want it to happen with Jack, I'm serious! Like you know, a bad person threatening the people he cares about to get what they want. It's delicious, and I love it. And also, I'm listening to this playlist and it's just so awesome. Legit, I love it :D now, even though I could tear down this chapter, too, I shall not. Because you guys seem to like this story and if you like it, then I'm doing something right. I hope. Ah, well, just read. And please review? Reviews give me the will to keep going with the story :) **

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><p><em>No. Not Jamie. <em>

This was Jack's first thought. He had a child with him. It was his duty to protect this child at all costs. Without hesitation, he started to ready his staff before remembering he didn't even have it anymore. The empty feeling of his hands, his fingers clenching at nothing, made him feel very vulnerable. He lifted his gaze to the witch again, but just as he did so, she smiled coldly, opening her free hand.

The room was lost in smoke. Jack knew nothing of what happened in those fog-filled seconds; he only knew that, all at once, it was impossible to stand. He crumpled to the floor before remembering Jamie, and trying to peer through the thick smoke to catch sight of the child, but it was impossible.

"Jack!"

The winter spirit knew that, however long his immortal life lasted, he would never forget that terrified scream that had surely issued from the boy's mouth. "Jamie!" Jack cried, swiping at the fog that pressed against his eyes like a living creature. "Jamie, it's alright…" his hands found cold metal as he reached out across the bedroom floor, and for a moment, he couldn't even think beyond the sensation of steel under his fingers. Then there was a loud clang, a burst of unseasonably warm wind, and the smoke cleared abruptly from the room. The witch was gone. Jamie was gone.

"No!" Jack spoke aloud in his distress, bolting to his feet and scrambling to the window. The two were still close enough to catch; Jamie hung, completely unsupported, in the air beside the witch, trapped in a small cage. Jack's heart jumped into his throat when he saw the child's scared brown eyes. He had done this. He had brought Jamie into this, because he was so selfish and cared too much about keeping his first and favorite believer, and cared too little for the other children…

He swung himself off the window ledge, not knowing or caring whether the wind would catch him. If she supported the witch, then why would she support Jack as well? The cool breeze caught him just after he flung himself out, slowly pushing him up to the witch's height. Strangely enough, she hadn't moved; she hung suspended in the air, her smirk a cruel thing. But the moment Jack flew closer to her, determined to catch her this time, she turned, tugging Jamie's cage along behind her like it weighed nothing.

Jack followed without thinking; it didn't even require thought. He had to protect Jamie, and that was all he knew. The witch made sure to keep just out of his reach, smiling coldly at him whenever he tried to catch her. She even seemed to regard the whole thing as a game; she appeared to be on the verge of laughing whenever he attempted to grab at her, or his staff, or Jamie. Really, he only needed Jamie and his staff, but if he could take down the witch at the same time, all the better, right?

Jack didn't know how long the chase lasted, but when he landed at the spot the witch had apparently chosen for her own, he realized his muscles felt sore and overused, and he let his shoulders relax for a brief second before following her into an old, seemingly unused building, because surely she wouldn't settle herself where people might find her…would she?

She kept dragging Jamie along with her, and now that they were out of the sky again, Jamie appeared to have found his voice. But the first time he called for Jack, the witch dealt him a blow so fierce that the child fell silent, and Jack's vision tinted suddenly red. He was readying himself to attack her for this attack on Jamie, to add to everything else she'd done to him, when she stopped at a large door that read 'FIRE EXIT'. She shouldered it open, barely even glancing behind herself anymore to be sure that the winter spirit was keeping up. So long as she had the child in the cage with her, it appeared that he was willing to follow her.

The room was dark when Jack entered, but a bright light blinded him, and he had to blink, turning away for a moment before remembering his reasons for following the witch, and returning his gaze to the old woman. She had already set Jamie's cage down, leaning him slightly against the wall, so the bottom of the cage constantly wobbled and threatened to tip over. Jack ran to the child at once, knowing the witch would probably stop him, but not caring.

She didn't seem to be paying him any attention, however; she just stalked into the center of the room, under the bright lights, and he heard the sounds of clinks and crashes. He barely noticed, however, as focused as he was on freeing Jamie. The cage didn't appear to have a lock, just a door that would open easily. Jack put his hand on the door, already clenching his fingers around the bars and beginning to yank before the unpleasant sensation of electric current coursed through him.

The pain was blinding, so terrible it actually knocked him off his feet where he crouched, onto the floor. He heard the witch give a small snort, perhaps at his stupidity in thinking that she would just leave the child where Jack could easily get to him.

Jack reached out to touch the cage once more, and the same thing happened again: he wound up on the floor, out of breath and gasping in pain.

"Jack! Jack!" Jamie's childish voice reached his ears, still high with terror. "Don't try that again, okay? I don't want you to get hurt."

The winter spirit bit his lip against a much more intense form of pain. He was a Guardian, a protector of children. And here was a child himself, begging Jack not to hurt himself. The white-haired boy pushed himself to his feet, finding uneven ground beneath himself. He winced in pain as a slight spasm rocked his body, left over from the electric shocks.

"The child's right, you know," the witch's face was lit from below by a ghostly green light emanating from the huge stone cauldron in the middle of the room. She had an enormous wooden spoon that she used to stir the contents. "Don't try to free him; you'll only hurt yourself. That spell I placed on his cage is not easily broken."

"What's your game, witch?" Jack demanded, stepping in front of the cage. He didn't even want this woman to _look_ at Jamie.

"Well, mostly I want you," she told him in a casual sort of way, crossing the room to a shelf that the winter spirit hadn't previously noticed. She grabbed a glass bottle off the shelf, popped the cork, went back to the cauldron, and poured it in. The contents frothed and hissed, turning a deep, intense red. A strange heat seemed to glide from the cauldron, across the room toward Jack. The winter spirit attempted to look braver than he felt.

"Why do you want me?" he asked angrily. "And if you wanted me, why'd you have to drag Jamie into it? He's done nothing to you! I'm the one who freed you and fought you and I'm the one who's been hunting you, can't you leave him out of this?"

"Well, I could," the witch paused for a moment, empty glass bottle in her hand, to consider the matter. "But I won't," she continued coolly. "You see, the best thing about bringing the child along for the ride is…without him, you won't do anything I say. But with him…why, with him…" she gave a light laugh, sounding extraordinarily youthful for one so old. She crossed the room to where the cage stood, imbalanced. She tilted it very slightly upward, conjuring a ball of flame in one hand, just like she had a week ago, when Jack had freed her.

The winter spirit bolted over to the cage, unthinkingly grabbing at the bars before remembering – _ouch!_ – that he couldn't touch it without an electric shock.

She smiled coldly, letting the fire hover closer to Jamie…closer…closer…

"Stop it!"

The witch seemed pleased with the response; she extinguished the fire easily, but held Jack's gaze. "You see? You wouldn't do anything to hurt him, would you? So be a good little boy and do as I say, and I'll let him live."


End file.
